


when we fall into place (the "behold the body" remix)

by rememberhow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Getting Together, M/M, POV Shiro (Voltron), Parent Keith (Voltron), Parent Shiro (Voltron), Reunions, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rememberhow/pseuds/rememberhow
Summary: shiro falls in love with the new kid. as it turns out, in the push and pull of uncertain futures, sometimes they work out in your favor after all.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42
Collections: Sheith Remix 2020





	when we fall into place (the "behold the body" remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sebayard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebayard/gifts).
  * Inspired by [behold the body](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330261) by [sebayard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebayard/pseuds/sebayard). 



> sheith remix 2020 written for [seblamblam](https://twitter.com/seblamblam). i tried remixing your fic w/ missing scenes from shiro's pov!
> 
> ty [viv](https://twitter.com/dazzlegguk) for beta-ing!

Shiro’s eyes are getting heavy. He yawns and shivers in the still air. Somewhere far away, the city rumbles on, rocking itself into a slow-creeping slumber. 

Stars blink teasingly at him. The crescent moon cocks its head to the side: _How are you?_

Shiro laughs. He spreads his fingers over the dark sky and covers the moon with his palm, curls a fist around it and stuffs it in the breast pocket of his pyjama shirt. He’ll show it to his grandmother in the morning. 

“Gotcha.” Shiro smiles sleepily. He rolls over and shakes the sand out of the blanket, folding it into a neat square before heading home. 

As he makes his way up the driveway, Shiro watches the new kid next door catch his gaze through his bedroom window, one illuminated square in the dark. The boy quickly ducks down. Shiro giggles to himself and goes inside. 

* * *

On Saturdays there isn’t much to do. 

Shiro chases Keith up a hill. He loses his breath somewhere near the middle, watches Keith sprint forward and reach the top. Keith cranes his neck up, closing his eyes against the beat of the sun. 

It’s rare for Shiro to see him like this—when Keith lets go. 

The light catches in his dark hair and in his eyes, and suddenly Shiro has this overwhelming feeling fluttering in his chest, like overflowing happiness and something inexplicably sad beneath it. 

All he really wants is to capture this moment and tuck it somewhere safe. 

* * *

There are many things for an eighth grader to worry about. High school next year feels too grand and too far away. 

But Shiro hardly thinks about it, not when he and Keith have a whole summer ahead of them. He spends most of his afternoons at Keith’s or the other way around. At night, they venture into the desert, hot wind blowing through and under their shirts as they take the long way up to Keith’s favorite spot. Here they can see everything for miles and miles on all sides, buttes and cacti and the hazy mountainscape. 

Sometimes, when the moon is at its roundest, Keith howls like a wolf before turning and pouncing on Shiro, wrestling him to the ground. 

As the days dwindle, Keith looks less than excited. 

One night when they’re sitting in the sand and watching the stars again, Keith asks, “Do you think things will change?” 

Shiro doesn’t hear him. He’s too busy staring at the moon and thinking about how weird it is that he used to look up at her as a kid _without_ Keith next to him. He turns his head to the side and Keith is already looking at him expectantly, wide violet eyes twinkling like the first evening stars. 

Shiro is glad for the darkness when a flush spreads over his cheeks. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

Keith looks hesitant. He looks up to the sky; he always seems to do that when he’s thinking. “I dunno. We’re going into high school. Just feels… different.” He frowns. He could use a bit less _change_ for once, after years of relocation. 

“Maybe it will be different,” Shiro says. Then he knocks their shoulders together. “But, hey, we’ll still have each other, right?” 

Keith leans into him a bit, seems content with that. “Always, Shiro.” 

* * *

In a week, Keith will be on a plane headed two thousand miles eastward. 

Right now, though, an afternoon thunderstorm roars outside, and they are stuck in Keith’s room. 

Shiro lets the book he’s barely reading drop out of his hands, flopping over on his back on Keith’s bed to stare up at him. “I’m gonna go get water.” 

“Okay.” 

He slinks off the bed and trudges downstairs, through the hall and into the kitchen—Keith’s house almost feels like an extension of his own now. Shiro realizes that the light is already on, and then he sees Keith’s mom sitting at the table. 

“Ms. Ko— Krolia, hi,” Shiro says. Her head snaps up from the mug that she’s staring into. “I was just getting some water. Sorry, um, Keith said you were at work.” 

“I left early to beat the storm,” Krolia says, draining the last of her coffee. She offers an easy smile. “Besides, you know you’re welcome here any time.” 

Shiro mumbles a thank you. After all these years, Shiro still seems to get flustered around Keith’s mother. It’s something about the way she pierces his gaze in the same way Keith does, pinning him in place, so that he can’t really do anything but watch as she rises from her seat and drops her mug into the sink. 

Krolia turns towards him. “Hey. I’m sorry.” 

“Pardon?” Shiro blinks at her. “I mean—why are you sorry?” 

She places the mug upside down on the drying rack and sighs, bracing her hands against the kitchen counter. Krolia stares out the window, where shrouded skies crackle with lightning and the rain is relentless. “I know you love Keith. He loves you too. He’s never had a friend like you.” 

That familiar, unbidden heat creeps up Shiro’s neck again. Krolia smiles at him, again, sadder this time. “I know this is hard for you, too, kid.” 

Shiro sucks in a breath, and when he lets go of it he feels like crying. Keith has been quietly miserable lately, and as much as Shiro reminds him not to miss him while he’s still there, as the days pass by the weight of the move is slowly crushing Shiro. He doesn’t know what to say to Keith whenever they lock eyes—in his mind it’s always a jumbled mess of _I love you_ and _I don’t want to never see you again_ , and then, _But what if I never see you again?_

He’s terrified the last thought will become reality. 

“I just don’t want to say goodbye.” 

Krolia nods. “If there’s anything moving has taught me, it’s that the future always surprises you. In devastating ways, yes, but in other ways, too. In good ways.” She smiles at him with the kind of softness she usually reserves for her son. “Don’t lose too much faith, okay?” 

“Okay,” Shiro whispers, and he makes a silent promise to himself that for the next few years, or however long it has to be, for Keith, he won’t. 

“ _Shiro!_ What’s taking so long?” 

“I’ll be right up!” Shiro calls back. He looks back to Krolia. “Thank you.” 

It’s only when Shiro enters Keith’s room again he realizes he never got that water. 

* * *

Shiro is hanging a map of constellations, standing on the bed and holding it flat with both palms, when the door to the dorm opens. 

The map drops from his hands for the fourth time. 

Keith looks grown, rougher around the edges. His hair falls past his shoulders now. For a moment Keith’s eyes have that steely veil they did when Shiro first met him—and then he meet’s Shiro’s gaze and that disappears immediately, replaced by shock. 

“Shiro?” Keith croaks, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. “You—your text said you were arriving tomorrow.” 

“Surprise.” Shiro grins, almost dizzy with it, because _Keith is here._

Shiro jumps off the bed and crashes towards him. He doesn’t expect for himself to cling onto Keith like they haven’t seen each other in a decade, but it feels that way, anyway, so Shiro doesn’t even care. Shiro buries his nose into his shoulder, breathing him in. 

And it feels like everything is falling into place. 

* * *

“You know the whole squadron is sick of us right now, right?” 

Keith leans in again, one arm around Shiro’s waist and the other around his helmet. “I could care less, really.” 

He tugs Shiro down hard and muffles his reply with his mouth. 

Somewhere, Matt groans. 

* * *

They choose the desert. Where else?

It’s a small ceremony. Keith and Shiro exchange their vows before wide, yawning canyons. 

The dancing begins when the sun sets and the waxing moon peeks through. 

* * *

Shiro watches in awe as the Lions, like a flock of birds, sail through the night sky together in formation, leaving trails of red hot sparks. 

Then all at once they nosedive, plummeting for the ground before swooping back up towards the clouds. 

Beside him, Keith does a low wolf whistle. “That was smooth.” 

“He’s really found his groove, hasn’t he?” Shiro grins. 

“Never say ‘groove’ again.” His husband can’t help but give a begrudging smirk. “He’s taken your advice to heart.” 

They all meet at the hangar after the show, where Keith and Shiro check in with the whole team. One by one the pilots clock out, still buzzing with adrenaline. 

One particular pilot, however, stays behind. He leans against his jet, helmet clamped between his arm and hip, a huge smile on his face as Keith and Shiro approach. “Hey, older timers.” 

“You were incredible out there,” Shiro says, pulling him in close and tight enough to knock the air out of him—he tends to hug him after the Lions’ air shows, even if Sven always tries to squirm away. 

“You did good today, Captain Shirogane.” Keith claps Sven on the back. “Thank you, sir.” Keith and Shiro might be commanding officers, but they’re his fathers first, so Sven allows himself to roll his eyes a little. “You were right. Patience yields focus, or something.” 

“So what do you two say?” Keith asks. “Still up for stargazing?” A post-flight ritual. 

“Duh,” Sven says. 

Shiro lags behind a bit as Sven and Keith walk ahead. The hangar isn’t too far from Keith’s favorite desert spot. Shiro watches Sven break into a run as soon as he spots it, and it reminds him of when his son was a child, of when Keith was a child, but the feeling that washes over him is different this time. He used to be afraid of losing this. Every moment just seemed so fragile back then, like if he held onto it too hard it would shatter in his hands. 

“You coming?” 

Keith turns back and faces him. The wind drags his long dark hair behind him. 

His smile is easy and familiar, like coming home. 

_Don’t lose too much faith, okay?_

And Shiro didn’t. Not in Keith. Not in them. 

It’s a wonder that this is his forever now. 

“Yeah,” Shiro says, returning the smile, and they climb the hill together. 


End file.
